The Roots Run Deep (Into The ground They Go)
by SOthisIStheHOBBIT
Summary: Hobbits have their own language. Of course they do. Thank you very much. But its a secret, but its hard to keep secrets when you're only a one halfling among 13 dwarves and a wizard. It helped even less when you start to have feelings about one of them... (THORIN/BILBO, Culture clash, made up hobbit language, canon divergence) THIS IS THE NEW VERSION, AND WILL BE UPDATED.
1. Chapter 1

**aniw awkirus taykarus jachayañati, jan kunaniw tukusiri**

**Do not mourn parents, one tends to become very poor **

* * *

Bilbo's father, old Bungo Baggins, had a saying: _"Janiw warawarax jakhuñati, walja wawanïñiriwa, siwa"_ which in Westron roughly translates to 'Do not count the stars, otherwise you will have too many children '

He was a wise sort, a bit overwhelmed by his Took wife and half Took son but still he found the time to quietly muse over the state of Arda as it was and the future of its inhabitants.

It was a good saying, but unheard of outside the Shire's green lands. For most of the big folk were completely unaware that Hobbits even had their own language. What good would it be, anyway, if no one else could understand it?

It was a bit presumptuous of them, Bilbo considered, just because you don't know something exists doesn't mean it doesn't exist at all.

Gandalf The Grey was the only outsider than gave the Shire's culture any sort of respect; he'd endeavored to pick up a few choice words and phrases of Hill Speak (as it was called) but understood that it was a special, secret thing, that families shared in their homes, chattered by their fires and sang to their children.

Bilbo had only spoken Hill Speak until the age of six, wherein all faultlings by the decree of the Thrain should begin to be taught the common tongue. His mother, Belladonna, had schooled him. She was a good teacher, firm but fair, and knew not to push her son too hard for he was still very young.

Sometimes, quite at random, she would test him.

"Bilba" She would say, and point to something, maybe a tree or a bird. "What is that?"

'Bilba' dear reader and our friend Bilbo, were in fact one in the same, but the latter was the hobbit's formal name if you will, that in which he used to introduce himself to passing strangers; non-hobbits. And it was the name that the grey Wizard used to address him.

"Flower" _ Panqara_

"Knife." _Khariña _

"Butterfly" Pilpintu

So it was that Bilbo learned how the big folk talked, but he was first and foremost a Hobbit, and honoured those long dead Baggins' by keeping the old words alive. The Old Took would be pleased. The Hill Speak pulsated within him, hummed in his ears and he spun the vowels like gold from his lips.

"_Satana wakisi..._" He would whisper as the season's changed, and his parent's passing no longer pained him so, but rather faded to a dull longing, and he was lonely sometimes.

Then the Wizard brought 13 dwarves to his door.

"I think I am owed an explanation Gandalf!" Bilbo rightly demanded, as he found that he was suddenly quite overrun with more guests than Bag end could hold. They'd already drank his cider, eaten his food, and trod mud into the carpet with their boots.

And one of the younger ones had _ruined_ his mother's glory box.

But out of them all, the last one to arrive, a dark haired fellow with smouldering blue eyes, was the rudest.

"I thought you said this place would be easy to find." The dwarf grumbled, as he shook off his cloak. "I lost my way, twice." he took in his surroundings, much the same how you would look over a rats nest.

Bilbo frowned, Bag end was on a straight road, how do you get lost on a straight road?

"I asked an old Halfling for directions but I couldn't understand his accent." He added quietly to Gandalf, ignoring Bilbo's presence.

The hobbit seethed. He probably couldn't understand yours either, you pompous oaf.

The dwarf then seemed to be aware that Bilbo was glaring at him, and, with folded arms he looked down at the smaller creature with curiosity but outright snobbery. "So, this is the hobbit."

A few awkward moments past where the dwarf circled Bilbo like a vulture and asked the most ridiculous questions, for what purpose the hobbit had no clue. The blue eyed stranger than called him a 'grocer' (a strange insult indeed) then flounced off to join his kin.

After a rather awful song had been sung at his expense, which was off key and not at all like the Shire folk songs, and after his mother's best dishes had been thrown around, Bilbo lost his temper and pulled the old wizard aside.

He was fuming.

"My dear Bilbo, it's not as bad as all that." reassured Gandalf.

"Not that –you have brought dwarves into my home Gandalf! _Nana ukaru!_ And why?!"

"_Chuyma apiri_, Bilbo Baggins, these dwarves of which you speak are in need of your help. Which I know you will give generously, because you are a fine fellow."

Gandalf took a puff of his pipe and looked at the hobbit from under his giant hat. Bilbo did not like that look, so he crossed his arms defensively. "Very well." said the hobbit, still irritated.

"I'll hear what they have to say." Said Bilbo patiently "but I fail to see what a bunch of dwarves could want with a Gentle-hobbit like me."

Gandlf chuckled. "I assure you, my dear Bilbo, you are preciously what they are looking for."

It transpired that the dwarves, 'heirs of the house of Durin' as they called themselves and their leader Thorin Oakensheild, were burdened with glorious purpose.

Erabor, the great mountain kingdom, had been taken by a Smaug, truly a creature of nightmares, a dragon and a brute to boot. He had forced Thorin's people to flee, turning them into nomads, vagrants, doomed to wander Arda until it was safe to return. The King himself had toiled in hardship just to keep his family fed and well.

How did Bilbo come into all this?

Well, they also happened to need someone sneaky, a burglar they said, to go into the Dragon's lair and steal back a most prized treasure; what that was exactly was apparently on a need-to-know basis, the dwarves would fill the hobbit in with more details later.

Then there was the longest contract Bilbo had ever seen. He sighed and began to read, the parchment fell down to his furry ankles.

"Incineration?" He gulped.

"Think of a furnace with wings." said one member of the company, Bofur by name, about the monster they wanted to just walk up to and steal from.

Then there was something else about burning flesh but by that time Bilbo had passed out and couldn't remember the rest. Fainting was a hobbit defense mechanism, albeit a not very useful one.

When he awoke, Gandalf was looking slightly guilty, while the dwarves looked confused and Thorin just looked disappointed. Bilbo shivered, quite chilled by the misplaced King's frosty gaze.

He had gone to bed with much to think about, and hoped he didn't have any nightmares about dragons. He didn't, but could not sleep soundly.

Despite the noise, and the mess, and the staring at his feet, Bilbo felt… exhilarated, exited.

The dwarves laughter was contagious, and the whole place had been filled with it. _Kusisiña. _

In an odd, Tookish part of his mind, Bilbo wondered what the Thorin's laughter would sound like, would it be loud like his thunderous voice? Or maybe a low chuckle in the back of his throat?

That, was among many, many other reasons was why the hobbit signed that fatal contract and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, hurdling over fences and through the big field until he caught up with the company; now _his_ company.

He handed the white haired dwarf, Balin, the contract and he smiled. "Give him a pony." Said Thorin gruffly, and sure enough Bilbo was hoisted upwards and dropped roughly on the only spare beast despite his complaints.

"Ah! " The hobbit squeaked at his was man handled, and mumbled a Hill Speak cures when he landed on his ponies back. She tossed her head, not very happy with the situation herself. "

Gandalf gently nudged his pony forward so that he could trot alongside Bilbo, the hobbit looked at him with questioning eyes.

"I am glad you are here after all, my dear friend" Smiled the old wizard. Bilbo gave an out of breath chuckle. "_awt'ajaki ullinaqaña..._" he sighed, softly so the others couldn't hear.

"_Jisa ullinaqata,_ little fellow." Gandalf said gently, still smiling. "The day has only just started, but I dare say you've not seen all the surprises it has to offer.

The hobbit didn't reply, but looked only ahead, through the winding woods and far, far away, maybe trying to see what lay in store for he and his new companions.

Alas, he was not able to predict the future, he had to plod along and wait, for whatever fate had planned would come around in good time.

* * *

**Jakhasaki arusiña**

**Talking softly**

* * *

2 weeks had passed since Bilbo Baggins had run out of his door.

He was wet, he was cold, and he was quite miserable.

Apparently this was all because he was a hobbit, a soft, spoiled little creature that had no understanding of the wilds and should really stop moaning about every little thing.

**_No._**Thought Bilbo. **_It's because it's been raining for three days straight._**

In hindsight, he should have checked for Jallurijawa before abandoning Beg End and maybe then he would have seen the clouds and brought his cloak. But alas.

You can only imagine what affect the unexpected downpour had on the Company's morale, especially since it was so soon into their journey.

"Maybe it's a sign." Mumbled Oin, huddling deeper into his hood "Mahal save me, what is this weather?"

Bilbo had no hood to huddle into, and his jacket and waistcoat provided were soaked through and probably not giving him any sort of protection from the elements at this point. He sniffled, and grumbled, but was ignored.

Dori asked Gandalf if there was anything to be done about the rain, but Gandalf informed his that his powers didn't extend to weather control.

Bofur, the chap who'd made him faint with his horrid depiction of Smaug, seemed to take pity on him (not that the hobbit wanted it, mind you) and offered Bilbo his coat.

It was a small kindness, but the gesture was so genuine in its meaning that Bilbo felt warmed by it. He thanked the dwarf, was declined to take it, for he didn't want another to suffer because he'd lacked the foresight to pack the right clothes.

Bofur shrugged good-naturedly. "Suit yourself, laddie."

The hobbit watched as the cheery toy maker trotted off to chat with his brother and cousin.

Bilbo wasn't quickly making friends among his travelling companions so it was best he saviour any good will towards him.

Be it spawned from sympathy, or actual attempts at friendship.

The only other members of the group who regularly interacted with him without looks of distrust or exasperation were Fili and Kili; who were the youngest of the Durin sons.

Not that they wanted to be friends, they just wanted someone to pick on, someone to play jokes on.

Best to shrug it off. Bilbo considered. They'll get bored soon.

"Mister Boggins! Mister Boggins!" laughed Kili, appearing from nowhere with his brother as was their want, and crowding right into Bilbo's personal space.

"It's Mister Baggins, Kili." Fili chastised, and then grinned at the hobbit. "What are you up to today, may I ask, Mister Baggins?"

"Anything fun?" added Kili, with a mischievous edge.

The hobbit kept his expression neutral, and only made a noise in the negative as a response.

"Aww, that's a shame." Fili sighed with exaggerated sadness.

"Yeah! You're normally such fun to be around!" Kili sniggered, slapping Bilbo on the back, making him jolt a little.

**_Don't you pests have anything better to do?_**It didn't help that they also happened to be Thorin's nephews; the king already thought Bilbo was a useless lump. Bilbo wasn't going to anger the dwarf further by bashing his kin's heads together.

Then, for no reason at all, Myrtle (as Bilbo had named her) took fright and whined and kicked in apparent distress. Bilbo could only grip the reigns helplessly and try to soothe her.

Suddenly he saw a white flashing tail and a pair of whiskers disappear into the nearby brush.

"_Wanq'u!_" he cried before he could help it, and then let out a bark of laughter and patted Myrtle's neck. "Silly girl." And they said _he_ was highly strung.

Fili and Kili's own ponies only nickered softly and Myrtle's display (apparently in disapproval) and the brothers themselves wore expressions of bemusement.

"What does that mean?" asked Kili, referring to the strange word Bilbo had used.

Bilbo blanched.

He hadn't meant to use Hill Speak, _Yanqha! _

It had been a reflex, but he must be more disciplined. **_You're not in the Shire now Bilba_**, he scolded himself internally,**_ Hill Speak is to stay at home! and not to be spoken with such carelessness! And not in such company, these dwarves are not your family. They're not even hobbits. They won't understand. _**

Kili and Fili were still staring at him intently with eager eyes, waiting for a translation. Well, Bilbo was not going to give one.

"Nothing." The hobbit said curtly, and then let his irritation with the lads slip. "Why don't you go and bother someone else for a change? Tatty bye, you two."

He gave Myrtle a slight nudge in the ribs to move forward and away from the brothers. He didn't look back, otherwise he might have seen Fili and Kili's looks of confusion and hurt.

It just so happened that he ended up next to Balin, who nodded politely. "Master Baggins."

"Master Balin."

The white haired dwarf chortled, but it was not malicious. "Balin, lad, just Balin."

Bilbo blinked at him, unsure, then let himself smile for the first time in days. "Then you must call me Bilbo."

In a moment of bravery he offered Balin his hand, to his relief the dwarf took it and grasped it with a firm but not overly tight grip. "Bilbo." He said simply with a twinkle in his old eyes.

The hobbit felt his cheer begin to return to him despite the continuing rain, and chatted freely with Balin as they marched forward. He was, as Bilbo expected, the oldest of the group by a good few years. He was a cultured fellow he liked to read, and played fiddle as a youngling but now his hands were riddled with arthritis, so he could not make the notes like he used to.

One thing he couldn't believe was that this gentle, studious dwarf was the older brother of Dwalin. They were total opposites.

But what surprised Bilbo the most was that Balin actually thanked the hobbit for his hospitality a fortnight past, and said that the others would come around. Eventually. Maybe.

Dwarves just preferred to stay with their own kind, and Bilbo couldn't pretend he didn't understand what that meant.

He already missed the Shire more than he should. The hobbit could hear the sweet, honey voice of his mother in his ear, calling him back for supper.

**_No. It's too early for homesickness._**He told himself.

The old dwarf looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Fili and Kili. "Hmm, those two are whispering, I don't like it, can only mean trouble."

"When are they not trouble?" Bilbo dead-panned.

Balin gave him a pat on the arm. "Pay them no mind young one, they don't mean any real harm, they're just being silly boys."

**_What about Thorin? And Dwalin? And the rest?_** Bilbo asked himself grimly. **_I may have made a mistake…_**

The merry tune of a thrush cut through his dark inner mantra and the hobbit looked up in pleasant surprise.

_Winustiyas Chiwaqu, Kamisaraki? _

This time he remained quiet, but oh, dear reader, how he wanted so much to greet that dear little bird. It seemed to be calling to him:

_Q'uchuña, jumamp nampi Q'uchuña, _

But it flew away as quickly as it had come.

But its song lingered in Bilbo's head, and he was reminded of a tune from his childhood and he began to hum it.

From the front, with his black mane flying, Thorin turned and gave Bilbo a narrow eyed look. The hobbit swallowed.

"Try to hum a bit quieter Halfling" Rumbled the King, mouth twitching as if he was amused or quite possibly annoyed at something. "We don't want an Orc pack upon us."

"Orc pack?" Spluttered the hobbit; almost falling of Myrtle in a faint.

Around him, a few dwarves laughed, and Bilbo shrank into himself and was afraid to make even the slightest noise, in case Thorin wasn't joking.

* * *

TRANSLATIONS:

Satana wakisi – Time is sowing

Nana ukaru! - In my home!

Chuyma apiri – kindness steals hearts, being nice steals hearts

Kusisiña. - Happiness

awt'ajaki ullinaqaña – Looks like I am

Jisa ullinaqata – Yes, you are

Jallurijawa – the signs of rain

Yanqha! - damn! (don't hold me to this one)

Wanq'u! - Rabbit!

Winustiyas Chiwaqu, Kamisaraki? - Good day thrush bird, how are you?

Q'uchuña, jumamp nampi Q'uchuña – Sing, you and me sing

AN: hi guys ^^ for those of you who have crossed over from my other account I just wanted to say thanks for sticking with me and this story, and hello to any new readers!

I'm sure you noticed some changes, the biggest one would be that I've changed the language used for Hill Speak. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled that so many of you spoke Spanish and could understand what Bilbo was saying, but for me personally I feel it works better if the language is unfamiliar. I'm now using Aymara, which is a native language of the Andes. Apologies to any one who speaks it for any mistakes that I make.


	2. Chapter 2

**Uksapachaki**

**As it is, it is either good or bad**

* * *

As it turns out, dear reader, Thorin was not joking about Orcs. Not even in the slightest.

One did not simply joke about Orcs.

Fili and Kili were suitably chastised when they did not react with the utmost seriousness to what may or may not have been the sound of a pack of the horrid creatures crying into the night.

But Balin, kind old Balin, sort to soothe the burns from the king's harsh words:

"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

He went to tell the gristly tale of the battle of Moira, and it was the first time that Bilbo heard the name of the vilest Orc to ever walk Arda: Azog the Defiler.

Just hearing it said made the company members twitch uncomfortably and Fili and Kili were quieter than they'd ever been. If Thorin himself was scared, he didn't let it show.

But that wasn't the worst part, dear reader, oh no.

Thorin's father, Thrain, had gone mad with grief when King Thror, Thorin's grandfather was slain by the White Orc and hadn't been seen since. Be him killed, taken prisoner or just wandering the Lonely Mountain… nobody knew.

Bilbo buried his parents and was not left to wonder what became of them, the hobbit doubted he could stomach the worrying, the never knowing.

**_At least I know where my father is._**Bilbo sadly looked over to the king. **_I can't imagine what he must feel. _**

The hobbit knew that only a fool tried to speak for others and see their emotions as his own, but Bilbo couldn't help but feel connected to the king; in a small, very tragic way.

He didn't like to think how many of his new companions had also lost loved ones, and while he might not understand there strange ways, at least they had something in common. _Llaki. _

As always, Thorin's company kept moving forward, until they arrived at the ruins of a farm house. Where once, a farmer and his family had lived there.

The place gave Bilbo an unpleasant feeling, he didn't like to think what might have happened to whoever lived there last.

Gandalf seemed to share his unease, and pressed them to move on, but Thorin would not have it. They had the usual battle, then, worryingly the wizard went off in a huff, leaving Bilbo without his one true friend on this insane trip to an impending fiery doom.

"Is there a problem, Halfling?" asked Thorin with a curled lip when the hobbit muttered something about dwarves having the social graces of a herd of wild pigs. His gaze

Now, Bilbo wasn't half of anything, he was a whole hobbit, a Baggins of Bag end, and detested that particular nickname.

His eyes went wide as saucers when Thorin approached, he had frozen like a deer caught by a hunter. "N-no." he answered, not wanting trouble.

Thorin huffed. "Good, I think we've had enough of your complaints for one day, now try and make yourself useful and take my nephews their food." He shoved two hot bowls into Bilbo's chest and nearly split the lot all over the hobbit.

Stung and embarrassed, Bilbo gritted his teeth and went in search for the two nuisances, but made sure to look back to the King and mutter: "_Ch'utu_" before going on his way.

He did eventually find Kili and Fili, and, predictably, Bilbo also found trouble.

"We're supposed to be looking out for the ponies." Kili said with a tight voice.

"Only we've encountered a problem." Fili added, shifting guilty.

"We had sixteen."

"Now there's fourteen."

Honestly, those two had one job. Watch over the ponies, how difficult could it be?

Sometimes the hobbit wondered whether Fili and Kili were _Luqhichasiña _(pretending to be idiots) just to annoy Bilbo or whether they were actually not very bright.

Bilbo had never met a gang of trolls face to face, not that he would ever want such a thing, for trolls are the stuff of tales told to children to make them obey their parents.

If you don't behave, a troll will come and steal you away!

The only thing these trolls had stolen were ponies, but they were the company's ponies, and Myrtle was among them, so for Bilbo this was personal.

Then he was used as a handkerchief and got covered in troll snot.

"AHHHH!" He screamed when the brute held him under his hairy nose, Bilbo gagged when he caught a whiff of the troll's breath.

"ARRGH! Blimey! Bert! Look what's come out of me 'ooter!" Howled the troll, thinking that the hobbit was some kind of mutated booger and he dropped Bilbo to the ground in disgust.

"What you then?" quizzed the second troll. "An oversized squirrel?"

Unfortunately, dear reader, Bilbo was quite in a state and dizzy from being dropped so roughly so could not give an answer. The trolls didn't like that very much.

"Didn't you 'ear him!" roared the one named Bert. "You pitiful mouthful!"

"Can we cook 'im?" asked the smaller troll.

"We can try!" declared the one who had sneezed all over Bilbo and made a grab for him, but the hobbit had recovered his wits and dodged the incoming hand. Bert the troll almost caught him, but the hobbit's quick feet saved him and in the confusion on of the vile creature's hit his brother over the head with a ladle.

But Bilbo was caught literally by the tips of his hairy feet and soon was dangled over the troll's camp-fire and their slow boiling slop that didn't look edible in the slightest.

"_Yanapaña! Mira!_" cried the hobbit, waving his arms around in vain, not realising in his terror he'd slipped back into his native tongue.

"What did it say?"

"I don't bleedin' know! I don't' speak squirrel do I?" bellowed Bert the troll, spitting all over Bilbo.

**_Oh brilliant! I'm going to be torn to pieces by some dumber than mud trolls!_**The hobbit's vision had begun to blear at the edges, probably because the blood was rushing to his head.

Suddenly Kili leaped from the undergrowth with his bow drawn, Bilbo was never so pleased to see him.

"Drop him!" Kili demanded.

"You what?" The troll snarled.

"I said, drop him!"

Now you must know dear reader that trolls are not the brightest sort, and are prone to violent mood swings, so rather than just set Bilbo on the ground out friend was flung like an old sock towards Kili and the two tumbled backwards.

From the surrounding forest there was a great ruckus and the whole company sprang forth and the camp erupted into chaos. In the midst of the shrieking trolls and dwarves Bilbo snuck up to the pen which held Myrtle and her friends, and, here's the good part dear reader, he actually stole one of the troll's knives to cut the ropes! Maybe he really was a _Luntata. _

Alas, the small victory didn't last as Bilbo was snatched up again by the troll named Bert and was held aloft by his arms and legs.

"Drop your arms! Or we'll rip his off!" they threatened.

Thorin looked conflicted, and the hobbit shook his head frantically. Don't do it! Don't!

But with a dark expression Thorin laid down his weapon and the others miserably followed suit.

Then they were stuffed into sacks.

Itchy, stinking sacks.

This was turning out to be a bad day for Thorin's company.

The trolls, predictably, intended to eat them and started to roast a few members slowly over a spit. Then they argued about how they should cook them and Bilbo tried his best to stall for time, making up some story about how you had to skin dwarves before you cooked them.

Then, he saw the flash of a white beard in-between the trees.

**_Gandalf! Oh thank the creator!_**The hobbit was ever so relieved to see the wizard, but he would need time to save them, time the dwarves didn't have.

Bilbo then made up some nonsense about parasites, and found out the dwarves really couldn't take a hint:

"Did he say parasites?!"

"I don't' have parasites! You have parasites!"

And wondered if the trolls were really the stupidest creatures he'd ever come across. Then Thorin, Thorin of all people gave his company a hint of his own, a kick to be precise, and suddenly everyone understood what Bilbo was trying to do.

"I've got the biggest parasites!" Kili again.

"I'm riddled!" that was Oin.

Better late than never Bilbo supposed, and he thanked his lucky stars when Gandalf finally made his appearance.

"May the dawn take you all!" he cried and cracked the rock under his feet and a great beam of sunshine shone through and quicker than Bilbo had time to blink the horrid trolls were turned into gloried lawn ornaments for all eternity.

The dwarves cheered and out of the corner of his eye, the hobbit could have sworn he saw the king smiling, but it must have been his imagination.

No one as grumpy as Thorin could have such a nice smile.

"_Jaxutaña_" Bilbo said with venom when he looked over the now petrified trolls, and he gave one a kick for good measure. Gandalf chuckled at his antics, lit his pipe, and then went to do whatever it is that wizards do.

The hobbit didn't see Bofur sauntering up to him, grin wide and merry.

"Whoa, fierce little hobbit! Don't' want to hurt the poor things now do we?" he laughed heartily and clapped Bilbo on the shoulder. "By the by, is Jax-uta-na a word for troll?"

The hobbit went stiff, and Bofur seemed to sense a change in mood and his grin dimmed slightly.

"No. it isn't." I must be more careful! Can't let my guard down for a minute!

He shrugged off the warm hand and took quick strides to join the others who were grumbling about parasites and burglars and dwarf princes who had one job but clearly didn't have enough brain power to do it.

Bofur was left on his own, puzzling.

* * *

**Alasina Ilullakipaña.**

**Dealing with deception and abuse**

* * *

A troll hoard was a fine prize indeed, and these particular trolls had some fine things to be had; if you ignored the smell that is. Trolls had a most unique scent.

"Oh, what's that stench?!" Nori made his displeasure at the aroma known to all, and if he was honest Bilbo didn't disagree. He was reluctant to enter, as his nerves were already well and truly fried after nearly being eaten.

But, not wanting to appear cowardly, the hobbit stepped into the dark cavern (he had to hold his nose mind you) it was thick with cobwebs, but any spiders seem to have long vacated to somewhere better, and less smelly.

Bofur and Gloin were pawing over some gold they found, and they'd sent Nori to fetch a shovel.

"What have you up to?" asked Bilbo, for he was a conversational type of hobbit.

Gloin raised a red eyebrow at him and moved so that his body guarded the treasure they'd found.

Bofur, predictably, was friendlier, and didn't seem to be spurned by their earlier encounter: "Oh we found ourselves some pretties Mister Baggins!"

Bilbo frowned. "Pretties?"

"It's what he calls gold." Gloin explained.

"Ah. Umm, why are you burying it?" the hobbit went on, curiosity perked.

"Safe keeping." Nori said, finally arriving back with a shovel.

"Oh! Like Qurisiwipa! I see!" Hobbits, my dear reader, have a particular custom of burying precious things into the earth, be it a necklace from an old lover, or maybe a favoured toy from childhood, they believe that since all things good and green come from the ground that makes it the safest place to keep them. This is called 'qurisiwipa'.

Both Bofur and Gloin looked mightily bewildered, and Bilbo felt heat crawl up the back of his neck

"Qu- qu what now?" echoed Gloin with appalling inflection. "What Halfling gibberish is that?"

Bilbo was, you could say, protective over the ways of the shire and of his fellow hobbits. Sure, he understood that dwarves were different, not just physically but also in the type of lives they lead. So he expected there would be some clash of cultures, naturally.

But, dear reader, if these dwarves expected him to just sit idly by while they dismiss a cherished Shirefolk tradition, calling it 'gibberish' and called him half of a man, then they had another thing coming.

**_I'll have you know you bearded clot-pole, that qurisiwipa is not gibberish, and is in fact a very well loved part of my culture which you just rudely insulted!_**Bilbo wished he could say that out, that he could curse and swear in Hill Speak and there would be nothing these fools could do or say about it.

But his hobbit upbringing made him bite his tongue, so hard in fact that it nearly bled. "Doesn't matter." He said with a smile that had too many teeth. Only Bofur noticed, and winced apologetically.

"Lad-"

His mother's voice was soft in his ears, she chanted in hill speak to calm him.

_Lupiqanqarputu, Bilba, lupiqanqarputu_

"Good day, Bofur, Nori, _Gloin._" To stop himself from doing something rather unsavoury to the red haired dwarf's person, the hobbit stormed out of the cave, pushing past Ori who yelped in surprise and nearly dropped his pack.

"What was that about?" asked Nori, staring at the Bilbo's retreating back. From where his was standing he thought he could here angry chattering which sounded like cursing but the words were nonsense.

Gloin snorted. "Halflings are strange. Keep digging!"

Bofur didn't comment, and was suddenly not all that interested in the chest of pretties.

* * *

TRANSLATIONS:

Llaki – sadness/grief

Ch'utu – ass/donkey

Luqhichasiña – feigning stupidity/madness

Yanapaña! Mira! - help! Please!

Luntata – theif

Jaxutaña – abomination

qurisiwipa - burrow

Lupiqanqarputu – be calm


	3. Chapter 3

**Nayra yawri vel churi luntata.**

**The thief who says awake at night**

* * *

That night, Bilbo hunched his tiny body further underneath his blanket, eyes fixed on the flickering flame of the camp-fire.

He had expected some backlash from the others after the troll incident, especially as he outright declared the company riddled with parasites (not his brightest idea) and feared they may well take it as comment on their personal hygiene in general. Which, if Bilbo was honest, was not brilliant.

Hobbits were, if you didn't' know, masters of the secret insult. Or as Shirefolk affectionately called it: _Ayniña_

For example:

Oh what lovely roses (I despise you)

Your husband is sick? What a shame! (You marriage is a shambles)

Would you join me for tea? (I am planning your murder as we speak)

And so on.

But no, Bilbo was rather surprised when by evening it was almost as if they hadn't been stuffed into sacks, and being partially toasted by some of the foulest creatures that Bilbo had ever had the displeasure of coming across.

It was water off a ducks back to his companions, which was probably a blessing.

As usual, they congregated around the camp fire, and chatted idly or sung songs that were unfamiliar to Bilbo's ears. He should have been sharing their merriment and he would have, if only his hands would stop shaking.

Really now, what was this? Had he not been fine earlier? Had he not gone into that putrid troll cave without thinking too much about it? Why was he full of fear now?

There was a soft swish of movement, and with a grunt Gandalf the Grey sat down next to Bilbo, nibbling his pipe thoughtfully. He blew a single smoke ring, and the hobbit watched it rise then fade away into the air.

_"Kamisaki, Bilba."_ Gandalf puffed.

Bilbo's throat constricted. **_What are you playing at Gandalf?_****_This is not the time or the place-and and don't use my given name! They might hear!_**

The old wizard either ignored or didn't see Bilbo's indignant expression and went on. _"Kamisaraki?"_ he enquired softly.

The hobbit bit his lip, it wasn't as if he could pretend he couldn't hear, and any protest he made would just draw unwanted attention.

Seeing no other option, and quite frankly hating the Gandalf just a little bit, Bilbo finally relented.

_"Warakusiña"_ he said in the snarkiest voice he could manage.

Gandalf seemed unruffled by his attitude, and placed a large, wrinkled hand on his friend's arm. He did not have to say anything, he just gave the hobbit a look.

Bilbo hung his head. Ah, so it so that obvious. He looked up into the old wizard's face, but saw not disapproval, or disappointment, but rather soft concern.

Bilbo placed his own, smaller hand over Gandalf's and gave it what he hoped was a reassuring pat. "I am fine, really."

Something flickered across the old wizard's face, his eyes crinkled at the edges, and his mouth went into a thin line; but he said no more. With a huff, He got up and left Bilbo alone with his thoughts.

He could go over and join the others, there was a spot next to Bofur that looked quite appealing but, ah, then he would have to sit next to Thorin. Whose glare alone Bilbo was certain could melt a man at twenty paces. He didn't want to be melted.

Bofur was telling some silly story, and the two princes erupted into hits of giggles, Fili clutched his sides and Kili had tears in his eyes. Thorin didn't even crack a grin. Typical.

He was so handsome, but he'd be even better looking if he just smiled.

Bilbo wondered what they could be talking about. Must be hilarious, whatever it was, although Bofur could make a story about a bucket of turnips funny. He had a way with words.

He must have been making some sort of wistful, longing look, because the jolly dwarf caught his eye and beckoned him over with a nod of his head. "Come join us, Master Baggins! I'm sure you have plenty a tale to tell."

Suddenly 13 pairs of eyes were in Bilbo, and he did not like it in the slightest. He was rather flattered by Bofur's offer, but again… there was Thorin.

"That's very kind Bofur, oh and please call me Bilbo, but I'm sure your stories are much better than mine… much more exciting for sure." He answered carefully, not wanting to offend anyone.

Bofur looked put out. "You don't' know that laddie, besides, it isn't a contest. Come over here and get warm."

**_But, I am warm, Laru Suxu,_**Thought Bilbo **_the looks Thorin and Dwalin are burning right through me!_**

"Well, burglar?" rumbled a familiar, deep voice. "Will you come? Or will you continue to be unsociable?"

Bilbo almost choked, Thorin Oakenshield thought he was unsociable? He would have laughed out load if he were in a better mood.

Instead he rolled up his blanket with a grumble and with a muttered _"Riya Ch'utu"_ then stomped over to the log on which Bofur was sitting. The dark haired dwarf made no comment as Bilbo settled himself down next to the toy maker.

The fire was indeed pleasant, and Bilbo was warmed and not as grumpy as before, why had he not come over sooner?

Bofur bumped his shoulder against the hobbit's own. "Glad you're here, laddie."

It was only Muxsa aru, like the kind his mother would use, but Bilbo was grateful.

Bilbo let himself be fanciful for a fleeting moment, and closed his eyes and whispered: "_Yuspagara, Laru Suxu"_

As it turns out, Bofur really did tell the funniest stories, and Bilbo let himself laugh for the first time in weeks, head thrown back, throat exposed.

However, in his mirth, he didn't notice that a pair of blue eyes watched him, captivated by his merry sounds and the smooth flesh of his neck.

But Bilbo remained none the wiser, and carried on laughing as the night rolled on.

* * *

**Amuli manqhini.**

**Quietly judging without speaking**

* * *

Meeting Radagast the brown was an… interesting experience.

The grey wizard had mentioned him in passing, and Bilbo asked whether he was great and powerful, like Saruman, or more like Gandalf. Not so great, and with a bad habit of meddling.

Apparently he was a peaceful sort of fellow, one who preferred the company of animals to people.

Bilbo understood that feeling completely, he'd much rather have his dear Myrtle over his cousins the Sackville-Baggins', they really were an unpleasant lot.

Radagast was in own league of oddness, unkempt hair quite literally crawling with all sorts, beard long and tangled, draped in tatty brown robes with a matching hat, but weirdest of all he had a bizarre trail of what looked like bird droppings down his face.

And he was riding a sled pulled by giant bunny rabbits.

**_Okay then…_**Bilbo was sure this day wasn't going to get any stranger.

"Radagast! Radagast the Brown! What are you doing here?" greeted Gandalf, calling his friend over.

"I was looking for you, Gandalf! Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong!" declared the brown wizard, looking rather frantic.

"Yes?" asked Gandalf.

Radagast opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He then opened it, but then closed it again; it seemed that he had forgotten what he was going to say. Bilbo hated when that happened, It was dreadfully embarrassing and inconvenient.

They all waited with baited breath.

"Stick insect!" Radagast yelled, spitting out an actual stick insect into his hand.

At this point Bilbo wasn't the only one who was wondering whether this person was really a wziard, and not just a loony living in the woods.

Gandalf then took Radagast away so they talk about whatever it is that wizards talk about, leaving the company in a state of bemused limbo.

"That was… strange." Commented Dori, and beside him, Nori raised an eyebrow.

Thorin did not look pleased, and he clenched his fists by his sides. "The wizard keeps secrets from us, I do not like it."

"Nor do I." Added Dwalin, shifting.

"I-I'm sure he has his reasons." Bilbo piped up, he knew it was bad manners to talk about someone when they were not there, but he felt the need to defend Gandalf. The wizard might be eccentric and unnecessary cryptic, but he was a friend.

Thorin turned around and looked Bilbo up and down, as if he not a living thing but rather a peculiar object. "And you, Halfling? What are your reasons?"

The hobbit was dreadfully confused. "Um, for what?"

"For the secrets that you keep." The king narrowed his eyes.

The hobbit blinked in a bewildered manner. "Secrets? I don't have any secrets." That was as close to a lie as Bilbo felt he could get without technically bending the truth, he didn't have secrets per say, but there were things about himself he'd rather keep private.

"Do not think I haven't noticed the way you keep your distance from us, and the way you whisper when you think no one can hear you-" with every word he stepped closer and closer to Bilbo, who should have stood his ground, but Thorin's gaze shattered his confidence, so he began to back away.

This could not mean anything good.

"What are you hiding, Halfling, what mischief do you plan?" it sounded more like an accusation than a question.

"Leave the laddie alone, Thorin." Balin chided, but his words were wasted on the King.

Their game of chase was short lived, as Bilbo was forced to stop when he bumped into a tree.

The King was close, too close for the hobbit's liking.

He was very impressive, with huge shoulders, a thick ebony coloured mane and beard with only a few streaks of silver, indicating his more senior age, and he was nothing like Bilbo had ever come across.

Despite his harsh expression, Thorin's irises were like an endless sky on a summer's day.

_Wayruru nayra. _

Bilbo gulped, a strange heat was creeping upwards from his loins and into his chest, and for a single moment, the hobbit was sure that his heart skipped a beat.

He wasn't even sure where these feelings were coming from, they were certainly new.

**_It' been awhile_** the hobbit's mind whirled **_I'm just feeling a bit lonely… that's all. And he's rather… attractive; you could say this is a perfectly natural reaction._**

"Well?" Thorin urged as he leaned into poor Bilbo's face until their noses almost touched. This, the hobbit concluded, would be a very poor moment to pass out again, and willed himself not too.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Bilbo said in the steadiest voice he could pull off, although his pitch was a bit higher than normal. "I'm not hiding anything from you! By my feet, I swear!"

The king looked as if he was about to say something important, but was cut off by a long howl off in the distance.

Bilbo snapped to attention and cold dread filled him.

**_By the creator, no. Will I die here?_**His fear threatened to overwhelm him.

"Was that a wolf? Are-are there wolves out there?" he asked, looking all around.

"That's no wolf." Bofur replied, with great foreboding.

Almost as soon as he had said that, from behind a crag a giant beast lunged itself at the dwarves, face twisted into a hideous snarl.

It went straight for Thorin, but in a flash the king had wielded his sword like a true warrior and struck down the wolf-thing with one fatal swipe.

"Warg scouts!" he declared. "Which means an Orc pack is not far behind."

"Orc pack?!"

Bilbo Baggins finally got his overdue introduction to Orcs.

And he decided to retract his earlier statement about trolls being the foulest creatures he had ever come across. Orcs held the title now, for however long he was to live.

It was a good thing that hobbits could sprint; otherwise our hobbit friend would have been a tasty Warg snack.

Bofur grabbed Bilbo's shirt to pull him behind the rocks when it was time to hide, and watched in awe as Radagast's sled pulled by his rabbits whizzed by with at least six Orcs in pursuit. Odd he may be, but incredibly brave, and Bilbo sent a prayer his way:

_Inki Mathachixa_

But despite Radagast's valiant efforts, the Orcs were not so easily shaken and they were soon nipping at the heels of Bilbo and his companions. Kili came into his own when he took out one or two of the monsters with his bow, but it wasn't enough; they needed an escape.

"Move! Run!" cried Gandalf.

Bilbo didn't know if he could take much more, his legs burned and he was sure that his heart might explode.

The hobbit really hoped the old wizard knew what he was doing, which, most of the time, did not seem to be the case. At all. But at least he had a better sense of direction than Thorin.

For a very scary moment, Gandalf disappeared, and there was panic:

"Where's Gandalf?!"

"He's abandoned us!"

It wasn't true, it couldn't be true.

Thankfully, the old wizard then reappeared from a crack in a nearby rock face "This way you fools!"

The Wargs were near, Thorin roared to his company to get inside the cave, and then swiftly killed one warg that got too close for comfort, and Kili, well, he continued to impress everyone with his archery and shot another one of the brutes stone dead. Uncle and Nephew then jumped into the crack, at last, but then they were all started by the sound of Elvish horns.

It was a pretty unmistakable sound, and it made the dwarves toes curl.

Bilbo had never seen elves before, he had heard that their beauty and grace was unmatched, but he had not expected them to be quite so… effective in dispatching Orcs. A limp body fell through the crack, pierced with several arrows, and Thorin plucked on from the corpse and examined it.

"Elves." He hissed, with great distaste.

They were in a cave, and the cave had a pathway. By the looks of things they were going to follow it, wherever it may lead. It was certainly a better option than going back the way they came.

With cautious steps, the company went down the long, narrow path, which in reality was just a slit between two overhanging cliffs. The dwarves were rather a bulky bunch, so at times they had trouble squeezing through.

When they emerged, Bilbo's eyes were greeted with a sight so lovely he could have wept. A large valley which had a city nestled within it: Rivendell.

_Janq'u Jach'a marka._

Of course, the Shire would be the most beautiful place in all of Arda (in Bilbo's humble opinion) but this gorgeous Elvin city was a close second.

"….goodness me..." he breathed, taking in the view.

The dwarves, unfortunately, did not agree.

"This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy?" Thorin just had to go and ruin the soothing ambience with his hatred of everything that wasn't a dwarf.

Gandalf clicked his tongue and gave Thorin a warning glare "You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that you bring yourself."

The old Wizard was full of good wisdom when the fancy took him.

The misplaced king looked angry enough to strangle a bear, but grumbling profoundly he led his company forward; they huddled together like ducklings and shuffled towards the gate.

Bilbo was too taken by the scenery to feel any sort of apprehension, he wondered over to a statue and reached out to touch the stone but Thorin seized him by the scruff and pulled him back.

No doubt because that was an Elvin statue, and it might dangerous, you never know.

Then all of a sudden there were elves everywhere (which made sense, as they were in Rivendell), very tall, but rather nice elves that wanted to invite them inside for dinner.

They were clean, and didn't smell like a pony's back end.

There was library, with real books, and gardens with flowers and trees with not a troll or Orc in sight.

This was a very grand place they had come to.

Bilbo was going to like it here.

* * *

TRANSLATIONS

Ayniña – dishonest words

Warakusiña – marvellous

Laru Suxu – smiling/cheerful scarecrow

Yuspagara, Laru Suxu – thank you smiling/cheerful scarecrow

Muxsa aru – sweet words, comforting

Riya Ch'utu – king donkey/ass

Wayruru nayra – Beautiful eyes

Inki Mathachixa – May luck be in your hand

Janq'u Jach'a marka – The white city (Rivendell)


	4. Chapter 4

Aru millk'ukipaña

Speak well

* * *

"Atakachaw" muttered the hobbit, as he took in the wonder of Rivendell.

Fine, delicate carvings danced across the walls and up the columns, and every piece of furniture showed masterful craftsmanship, only the finest work would do the elves.

Not that Thorin's company took any notice; in fact, they scoffed and quietly scorned at it all; under the watchful eye of their king, of course. And deliberately tread mud wherever they went.

It was enough to make Bilbo hold his head in his hands. Gandalf seemed content to just shake his head at the lot of them.

They didn't really have time to gussy themselves up for dinner, nor had the desire, really, the dwarves just wanted to shove food in their mouths and go while having as little to do with their hosts as possible.

The hobbit tried to straighten himself up, but without a bath and a comb he couldn't look much better than dishevelled. With slight exasperation he noticed that his trousers were tearing at the knees, but there was no point worrying over such silly little things now, not when there was food to be had.

It has been said, dear reader, that hobbits have two stomachs, if that was true then Bilbo intended to eat his fill twice over.

He strolled towards the dining room, which was on a balcony looking over the elven city, which spralling steps leading downwards into a nearby patch of green.

Bilbo saw that his companions were being led by some servants to their seats, good, he was nice and punctual.

Lord Elrond, who presided over Rivendell, was chatting to Gandalf as they entered. Bilbo wasn't surprised that they knew each other; the wizard was well travelled and had been on many an adventure. The hobbit wondered if they were the same age, Elves were eternal, so Lord Elrond might even be older than Gandalf.

That was a scary thought.

Bilbo trotted over to the company and was about to be seated but it was then that Lord Elrond seemed to notice his presence.

"Ah." He said, with a mellow voice. "This is your Halfling." He had a gentle, peaceful expression, and sincere eyes, so Bilbo forgave him for the Halfling comment.

What happened next almost bowled him over.

The elf knelt down on one knee, and smiled into Bilbo's face

_"Kamisaki, Q'uchu masi, kamisaraki?"_ he said.

The production was perfect, as if his own mother had said it, Gandalf always put a bit too much stress on the wrong words, but Lord Elrond had greeted him flawlessly.

Bilbo gaped, unashamedly, for a full ten seconds before he pulled himself together and reply.

_"I.. N-Naya walkistwa, Q'uchu masi Elra, jumasti?"_

Lord Elrond's smile grew wider. _"Walikiraki."_

He reached for Bilbo's hand, the hobbit held his breath as the elf lifted up his hand then, ever so lightly touched his nose to the ends of the hobbit's fingers.

Bilbo thought he heard the smash of a wine glass colliding with a stone wall, which was followed by a surprised shriek and reproachful mutterings, but he ignored it. Lord Elrond had his full attention.

Not only did he know Hill Speak, but he knew Shirefolk greetings as well.

In the Shire, a nose touch to the finger tips was a courteous hello, or a nice to meet you. Whilst a touch to the knuckles was more intimate, to greet friends or relatives. Then you had palm kissing, which was only for lovers.

This certainly was a nice change. Bilbo mimicked Lord Elrond's movement, trying to hold back his giddy grin.

Somebody kicked over a chair.

The elf stood up to his full height, which was very high indeed, and nodded to Gandalf who winked back. With his hand, he motioned Bilbo to follow him into the dining room.

The silence was… off putting, to say the least, Bilbo wasn't even aware dwarves could be so quiet. And he pointedly did not look in Thorin's direction when he took his seat next to Bofur.

**_Oh dear… I've put my foot in it._**The hobbit began to nibble of some of the delicious looking salad offered, and tried to ignore all the stares and open mouthed looks he was getting.

Kili elbowed his sharply in the ribs, and Bilbo nearly choked on the lettuce he was eating.

"Kili! That hurt you know!" he protested.

"What was that?!" whispered Kili furiously.

"What was what?" Bilbo tried to feign innocence.

"Don't be clever Halfling. You. That Elf. Explain." Dwalin was always straight to the point.

The hobbit wished he had Gandalf to help him, but Gandalf was sitting at another table, maybe he could run for it? No, that would just look suspicious. Yanqha!

"Oh, that, well, we were just saying hello to each other." Bilbo may as well be honest.

"Old friends are you?" continued Dwalin, with a surly tone.

The hobbit shook his head. "No! Not at all, we've never met. I swear by my feet!"

"What have you feet got to do with it?" Kili questioned, scrunching up his nose.

"Tis a hobbit saying." Bofur explained.

**_Thank the creator; at least one of you has been paying attention._**Bilbo sent a thankful glance in Bofur's direction, but then he deflated. "Is- is Thorin very cross with me?"

"I'd say so." Kili said as he picked at his food. "He hates elves, and you're all cosy with the Lord of elves." He whistled lowly. "What makes it worse it that he-"

He was kicked sharply under the table and the prince yelped in pain and clutched his knee. Bilbo guessed it was Dwalin, or maybe Oin, because they were both glaring daggers at Kili. The prince visibly shrank downward into his seat, and Fili gently patted him on the back.

The hobbit suddenly found that he had no appetite, and as politely as he could, excused himself and took a fast paced walk down some steps and away from the balcony into the nearest garden.

This scenery was truly something, and Bilbo felt instantly calmed by it. The plant life alone was stunning, there were many varieties of trees and flowers; but all were beautiful.

The fine weather must allow all sorts to grow, Pondered the hobbit, I do miss my little patch of sunshine back home.

Then, heavy, purposeful footsteps approached from behind, and Bilbo stiffened, it could only be him.

"Burglar."

It was a command to turn around, instead of a greeting. But the hobbit found that he was in rather a rebellious mood, so took his time, gazing up at the leaves, until turning to the king.

His face was like _qütaña. _

"Enjoying the view?" Thorin inquired, none too nicely.

"Yes, I am. It's very pretty here." replied Bilbo, trying not to incur any Roth from the misplaced King.

"On the surface maybe-" Thorin began. "But underneath, you'll find it to be rotten. So take caution, Master Baggins, before you pry any further." He finished with a sneer, aimed over his shoulder in Lord Elrond's direction.

Bilbo set his jaw. "I wish you would give them a chance, the elves, they're really not-"

"What do you know of elves!" Snapped Thorin. "According to Gandalf, You knew little of their kind until today, but I see they have already won you over." He gestured to Bilbo with his hand.

Bilbo blinked in surprise at Thorin's sudden foul mood. What had set him off this time? "Well, Rivendell is relatively close to the Shire, but-"

"You seem especially taken by Lord Elrond, tell me, are all hobbits so forward? Because that little show of yours was rather _indecent_, at least by dwarf standards." The king growled.

Bilbo could believe his ears. Surely wasn't suggesting, well, he wasn't suggesting more like accusing, but that wasn't the point. Thorin actually believed that Bilbo was... _flirting?_ with _Lord Elrond?_

The hobbit didn't know whether to laugh or cry. _Really,_ what had gotten into Thorin?

"I have no idea what you thought you saw, Thorin Oakenshield." Bilbo's rage was building. "Even if I was flirting, which I most certainly was not, what an idea! but if I was –who are you, to tell me what I can and cannot do!"

Thorin looked incensed. "I'll tell you who I am, you impertinent little Halfling! I am a King-"

"No you're not!" interrupted Bilbo, and on the balcony, someone gasped. "You don't have a kingdom yet! And besides, you're not _Riyaja!_ Last time I checked, your non-existent authority doesn't extend to the Shire, So you don't any power over me, your majesty!" with finished with a highly sarcastic note to his voice.

"How dare you, I outrank you by- " Thorin interjected

_"Hinapas kachun!_" Cut in the hobbit.

"Use the common tongue! Do not insult me in your halfing speak!" demanded Thorin.

No! why should I? You started this. Bilbo was seething now. "I didn't insult you, but, since you brought it up, _Q'añu, _then I will." he then out a torrent of insults on Thorin's person and his ancestors, which was best not repeated.

"I do not know what any that means." Thorin barked, looking unwillingly bewildered.

"I'm sure Gandalf will be happy to translate." Snapped Bilbo, then stuck his nose in the air and walked in the opposite direction. "_Goodbye._"

"Get back here!" Thorin demanded, perusing the hobbit. "I'm not finished with you-"

"Well, I am finished Thorin!" Bilbo called into the air. "I am _so_ done, done with dwarves for one day!"

He soon disappeared from sight, leaving the King standing alone in the courtyard. He warily looked up to the balcony where Gandalf was watching the Hobbit storm away, fuming and swearing in that strange language of his.

"What did he call me?"

Gandalf coughed, and drummed his fingers on the stone. "I would not care to say, as we in polite company."

Someone sniggered, but the sound was followed by a swift smack and a yelp of pain.

* * *

**Imapas ruway mana ima tarinapaq. **

**To Do Something Without Achieving Anything **

* * *

When he had the chance to calm down, Bilbo found that he wasn't at all pleased about his clash with Thorin earlier that day

He tried to feel pleasure in the fight he'd had, tried to see it as some sort of victory, but alas he could not. The hobbit was not the warring kind, dear reader.

Any exhilaration had faded, and instead left a horrid feeling of tiredness and anger.

Bilbo was angry with _himself. _

He had made such a scene, right there in front of everyone, making a mockery of Thorin where there was no need. And he'd disgraced his parents by wielding his native tongue like some sort of twisted weapon against someone who wasn't even his enemy. Not really.

It was a cowardly tactic, for he knew the king couldn't have responded, for he knew not what Bilbo had said.

No. This was not going to stand.

He was a Baggins of Bag End, a Gentlehobbit, not some slurring lout.

He was going to find Thorin and apologize profoundly, he just hoped the king wouldn't throttle him the moment they clapped eyes on each other.

Bilbo was also going to say sorry to Lord Elrond, for ruining dinner.

But finding the king would be a tricky task.

Thorin could be anywhere in Rivendell, it was rather expansive, most likely he'd pick some dark nook or cranny to hide in so that he wouldn't be bothered by the pesky elves around the place.

He began by searching through the various courtyards, the King was one to take solitary walks, so maybe, and with a bit of luck, he'd be skulking around somewhere, or scowling into the distance on one of the balconies.

The hobbit wondered around the great stone and wood houses, stairs and flowing fountains, until he found himself quite lost. That would teach him for wondering around at night.

"_Yanqha_" he muttered, and tried to retreat the way he came, but he must have taken a wrong turn and ended up in a completely different place.

The moon, and a few lanterns provided light, but not really enough for Bilbo to navigate properly through the elf city. He knew in reality no harm would come to him here, but still, every little noise made him almost jump out if his hobbit skin.

Then, Bilbo heard a familiar grunt. He did a half turn and saw, perched on a stone wall, with several crumpled flowers in his lap, was Bifur. The axe in his head shone under the moonlight.

"Oh..." Said the hobbit. The chuckled in relief. "Bifur! I didn't see you there."

The old dwarf raised his salt and pepper head and regarded Bilbo with a blank, unblinking stare. The hobbit stared right back, awkwardly shuffling his feet. After a few moments Bifur grunted again then went back to pawing over his flowers.

Bilbo blinked a few times. **_That was... strange. _**

The hobbit actually knew very little about Bifur, for one, he couldn't hold a conversation with the dwarf on account that he could only speak in guttural Khuzdal (that even his cousins had difficulty understanding on occasion). Which was caused his rather peculiar injury.

Bilbo had several questions about the axe, but was too embarrassed to ask. Its not like Bifur would have understood what he was going on about anyway.

But despite that, he was at least a bit quieter that the rest of the company, and didn't seem to mind his presence, so the hobbit went and sat next to him on the wall. The stone was cool, and his hobbit feet dangled a few inches from the ground.

They sat in silence for a time, Bifur been preoccupied with his flowers, and Bilbo gazing upwards at the sky. The night was glorious with a shimmering blanket of stars.

Bifur nudged Bilbo's arm, and he startled some. He looked questionably at the old dwarf which gestured with his chin towards the sky.

"Ah." The hobbit looked up. "They are nice, aren't they?... _warawaras."_

Bifur made a collection of noises which sounded like a question.

Bilbo stiffened. **_He wants to know what it means. _**

The hobbit considered the old dwarf for a moment. He had endeavored to keep his language to himself, as it was not for outsiders, it wasn't personal, that's just how it was.

But who would Bifer tell?

"That means stars." Bilbo explained carefully. "In my language, _warawaras._"

"Wa." Bifur repeated.

The hobbit smiled and patted the dwarf's arm. "Sort of."

"Waaaawaaa" the dwarf tried, determination in his expression.

Bilbo nodded. "Not bad." he concluded.

Bifur looked pleased with himself, then picked up a little blue flower from his lap and examined it for a second before handing to the hobbit.

It was only a flower, a tiny thing with faded petals. But the innocent kindness in which it was offered genuine that Bilbo couldn't do anything else but smile and take it gently from Bifur's stubby fingers.

"_Yuspagara._" he said. "Thank you."

Bifur huffed then hopped off the wall and began to marched away in a random direction. After a few paces he stopped, looked over his shoulder, and indicated with his head that he wanted Bilbo to follow.

"Bofur." grunted Bifur

"Oh!" Bilbo trotted after the dwarf. "Are we going to find that silly toymaker?"

Bifur said nothing, but kept walking purposefully on.

In the end, Bilbo quite forgot that he was looking for Thorin.

* * *

TRANSLATIONS:

Atakachaw – how beautiful

Kamisaki, Q'uchu masi, kamisaraki – hello friend, how are you?

N-Naya walkistwa, Q'uchu masi Elra, jumasti? - I-I am fine, friend Elrond, and you?

Walikiraki – I am well, too.

Qütaña - Thunder

Riyaja - my king

Hinapas kachun! - I don't care!

Q'añu – Dirty hog

Warawaras – stars

AN: in this chapter I'm using a blend of two languages, Quechua and Aymara, which originate from the same area (Peru), and have quite a few similarities between them but also some differences.


	5. Chapter 5

**Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukhil**

**I Wish To Save You A Journey**

**(Khuzdul)**

* * *

Thorin was not going to allow the hobbit to get away with this insult.

The small creature had a bold cheek, which, in other circumstances might be admirable.

But Thorin was a king, regardless of whether he had an actual physical kingdom to show for it. That beardless halfling had no right, no right at all, why, to humiliate Thorin as he had done would have been a punishable offence if they had been in Erebor.

But alas, they were not. They were in Rivendell, which Gandalf seemed to delight in reminding him.

Thorin knew that the wizard had planned this in some way, just how he didn't know, and the why... that was up for debate. Gandalf was another who did not respect Thorin's authority, he was older, and though the dwarf loath to admit it, wiser, and seemed to think that dwarf's had the collective intelligence of cattle; who needed to be herded from place to place.

He and the hobbit shared the same exasperated looks and long sighs, and muttered together in that odd, halfing speech.

Thorin wasn't even aware that Hobbits had their own language, but there you go.

The burglar seemed to keep his words to himself. A sentiment shared by Thorin, as he only ever used Khuzdal when around his family and close friends. It was not for an outsider's ears.

Perhaps the hobbit felt the same about his language? but if that was the case, why did the Wizard speak it?

Of course, Gandalf knew many things that he didn't care to share.

Thorin hadn't clearly heard Master Baggins use his words until yesterday, when the hobbit decided to beat him over the head with it. The wizard still refused to disclose preciously what the little creature had said... but judging by the look on his face, it had not been pleasant.

The king was surprised that the hobbit was capable of cursing.

The language itself sounded foreign to Thorin's ears, it wasn't flowery and complicated like Elvish, not rough and low like Khuzdul, and lacked the crude simplicity of Westron (which he spoke because he had too, not because he wanted to).

In reality he knew little about hobbits, or hobbit culture in general. He certainly had no idea why Gandalf insisted that his company needed one. From what he had seen, they were soft unhurried beings, used to warm fires and a full larder.

This hobbit also seemed to have an attitude problem, especially regarding Thorin. Maybe he wasn't used to taking orders, from what the King could remember, the hobbit lived alone. Although the small creature had complained about some distant cousins of his once or twice... the Sackville-Baggins'?

Their burglar seemed to be full of fire at exactly the wrong moments.

**_Where was that fight when the Orc pack approached, I do wonder..._**bristled The King as he stalked Rivendell's marble passages looking for the impertinent Halfling.

As he search his anger boiled down to a low simmer, and he become more concerned about simply finding the burglar.

Where in Mahal's name was he?

Had he crawled into a hole somewhere?

Then, he got lucky, as he spotted a small curly haired creature sitting crossed legged at the edge of one of Rivendell's ponds. He had his back to Thorin, and apparently didn't hear him approach. For a moment, the king considered giving the burglar a kick into the water, that would teach him to hold his tongue.

But no, Thorin was a dwarf of 185 years, his nephews might see fit to carry on in such away but the king had more dignity than that. But it would have been very amusing to watch.

He cleared his throat, and the burglar squeaked like a startled mouse and spun around with wide green eyes.

Like the leaves of a tree with sunlight shining through them.

"Ah... Thorin." The hobbit shifted. "umm, good morning?"

"Is it?" said the king, crossing him arms.

The hobbit faultered. "Oh, well, I think so?" he looked up at the sky. "But it could always rain later."

Thorin had not come to discuss the weather. But before he could open his mouth the hobbit spoke again.

"I was actually looking for you last night, Thorin." he confessed. "But I got myself a bit lost, this place is a bit of a maze."

The king snorted, elves always felt the need to make things needlessly complicated.

"Oh?"

"Yes... I wanted to apologise." Master Baggins looked very earnest. "I shouldn't have spoken to you in such a manner, I let my anger get the better of me. I'm very sorry."

The king raised a dark eyebrow. "And what was it, Burglar, that caused you to fly into such a rage?"

The small creature faltered, becoming slightly flustered. "Oh, well, it was all that business with Lord Elrond, really. I know my greeting might have seemed... urm, overly intimate, but honestly, he was just being respectful."

At the mention of the elf's name, Thorin felt himself tense, and his eye's narrowed. "I do not retract my warning, Burglar, but I too, perhaps, could have a better reign on my temper."

The hobbit chortled, then slapped a hand over his mouth when he realized the laugh had escaped. Thorin glared at him, and the little creature shrank into himself a little.

I can't believe this timid thing is that same hobbit that insulted me the other day, The king pondered.

"Sorry." came the muffled apology. The hobbit took his hands away from his face but Thorin could see he was trying to hide a smile.

"I fail to see what is so amusing, halfling." The king grumbled, a bit ruffled.

"Oh... nothing." The hobbit replied, with a sweet smile that looked ever so slightly evil.

Thorin huffed, and felt that this conversation had served its purpose and with a polite nod proceeded to walk back to the dining hall so that he might join his kin for breakfast. He heard the patter of feet, and soon the hobbit was by his side.

"May I join you?" Master Baggins asked.

Thorin shrugged. "If it pleases you."

The Hobbit said nothing more, but hummed a little ditty as they walked. Thorin found it to be a pleasant tune.

* * *

**Ansatati**

**Opening the flower**

* * *

Bilbo wished he could have stayed in _Janq'u Jach'a marka f_or the rest of his life.

There was just a pleasantness about the place, a calm, which reminded him of home.

That was another thing, being with the elves and their wonderful libraries, fine food in their glorious green valley made our hobbit friend feel just a bit less homesick.

But only a little.

He wondered if the dwarves ever pined for their home as he did, and thought he must be horrid to loose your sense of place, of belonging. Although in reality he knew the journey had only really just begun, he felt as if he'd been away from his home for an eternity.

His Fa had always said that he should never go _Maynina._ Because that's where a hobbit runs into danger.

But... maybe, he'd found another home here. Lord Elrond had (wisely out of ear shot of the dwarves) told Bilbo that he was always welcome to stay.

Would it be such a bad idea?' Bilbo wondered 'I don't know where I'm supposed to be going really.

His talk with Thorin in the morning had raised his spirits, but mostly he was just glad the dwarf didn't try and drown him in the pond he was sitting by. And it surprised the hobbit that Thorin had the capacity to apologize.

Well. Technically he hadn't, dear reader, _Bilbo_ had apologized, the dwarf had only gruffly admitted that he might, somehow, in some way be in the wrong.

Was it progress? perhaps the hobbit was hoping for too much. He doubted that he Thorin would ever become _Q'uchu masi._ The dwarf, at best, tolerated Bilbo's presence, when he wasn't grumbling about soft Halflings.

Nothing had changed since their conversation, so Bilbo did what he usually did. Avoid the grumpy _Ch'utu_ and spend his time exploring Rivendell or having a smoke and a chat with Bofur. Bombar was good for a chat too, he loved cooking, and food in general (and he was one of the few who didn't complain about the 'green things' the elves ate), which was a sentiment Bilbo heartily shared.

Bifur was, well, Bifur.

Although the dwarf did seem more interested in the hobbit, and there was was a strange incident in which he grabbed Bilbo's sleeve and yanked him towards a patch of flowers.

The hobbit balked at the dwarf's grip, and no matter how hard he yanked Bifur would not release him. He looked pleadingly over at Bofur, who was leaning on a stone column enjoying a pipe.

"He wanting to show you somethin' lad." he called with a smile. "Don't worry, he won't hurt ye."

Thats good to know Bilbo thought, glaring at Bofur who laughed. **_If he breaks my arm Laru Suxu, neither of us will be laughing._**

Bifur stood opposite the flower bed with the hobbit in his grasp, and pointed to them while making insistent noses.

"Ummm.." Bilbo was at a loss, what was he supposed to be looking at? "Yes those are very nice flowers, aren't they?" he tried.

That wasn't the answer Bifur was looking for, he made an irritated grunt and pointed to the flowers again.

When Bilbo still looked at him blankly, the old dwarf looked up at the sky and said in a guttural voice "_Wara-wara"_ then practically pushed the hobbit into the flower bed.

Our hobbit friend's eyes widened in surprise as he stumbled. Did he... did he want...

"Do you... want to know the word for flowers?" Bilbo asked tentatively.

Bifur tilted in head in a way that the hobbit presumed was a yes. Bilbo hesitated, he honest hadn't expected the old dwarfto remember their encounter the previous night, much less take in what the hobbit had said. Maybe there was more to him that meets the eye.

"Well, alright then." The hobbit agreed, he the leaned in. "But its a secret okay? shhhh!" he put his fingers to his lips to emphasize the point.

Bifer snorted.

Bilbo took the old dwarf's hand and pointed it in the direction of the plants, more specifically, an unassuming red bloom. "That is called Chinchirkuma."

Bifur frowned. "Chi-ch.."

The hobbit's shoulder's shook with quiet laughter. "A bit harder than _Warawara_, isn't it?"

Bifur looked at him in a way that seemed to say "Why are your words so hard?"

Bilbo offered the dwarf a pat on the shoulder, but Bifur seemed nonplussed. He plucked the red bloom from ground and nibbled on its petals, turned on his heel and shambled away muttering "chin-chi.." all the while.

Interesting.

Fili and Kili were as... boisterous as ever, and took delight in tormenting the elves who where not used to such lively youngsters and their tricks. Bilbo let out a sigh of relief, in theory they should leave him well alone now.

But don't be mistaken, dear reader. Bilbo was growing fond of the two silly boys, its just there was only so much a hobbit could take before his patience began to wear thin. He wondered how Thorin, who was far more short tempered, how coped all these years.

When he asked Balin, the old dwarf chuckled and said "Why do ye think he's got those grey hair's laddie?"

Ah.

Well, to be honest, being pranked by the brothers could not have spoiled Bilbo's good mood. The sun was setting now, and he watched as the yellow streams of light from the sun mingled with the blue sky. The whole of the city glowed a dull orange.

He was standing on one of the many balconies, leaning with his arms folded on the stone, looking out in no particular direction.

He was alone, again, but that seemed to bother him less and less.

He'd living alone ever since his parents had died, and besides, if he really wanted, he could go join the company by the small camp fire they had made.

Not quite yet though. For now, he was content to just watch the _phallphalli._

Soon, it would be time for Lord Elrond to read Thorin's map, and then they'd have to leave.

* * *

**TRANSLATIONS**

Janq'u Jach'a marka - The White city (Rivendell)

Quchu Masi - Dear friends

Ch'utu - Ass/donkey

Maynina - beyond home.

Phallphalli – sunset


End file.
